


Whenever I Want

by vileFantasy



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Work In Progress, hints of blow jobs, innocence lost for carl, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-07 15:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7719874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vileFantasy/pseuds/vileFantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey looked into those- he never decided what color to call them, green? blue? damn turquoise?- shitty eyes of his.</p><p>  His nose crunched and he silently asked once again if Ian was fucking serious before ducking under the table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey there, first shameless fic but i love these boys
> 
> based on the 4x08 scene
> 
> sorry about how short this is. I hit a block and was hoping for some criticism on it? 
> 
> anyways, enjoy my skip around of sex scenes

When this jerkoff said whenever, he meant when-fucking-ever. Mickey jaw seemed to be permanently unhinged for the redhead. He would saunter into the room with that smug fucking look on his dumb freckled face and it was like Mickey was trained Pavlov-style for it. He'd drop his beer, game, food, whatever the fuck he was doing and fall to his knees. 

Not that he didn't like it. He fucking loved it. Got off on it most of the time. Gallagher just had the worst fucking timing. 

***

"Fuck, Gallagher."

First time was in Ian's room. That was the first time he saw the look. It was toxic and it struck him in his core. He didn't need anymore encouragement other than a raised brow before he was tugging those dumb fucking pants off. 

It was the first time they got caught, too. Ian didn't even say anything, just gripped at Mickey's hair while his head bobbed and slurpped. Carl was almost fascinated at the obscured site as he peaked through the crack of his room, but when Mickey pulled up for a breath of air, he swore Ian looked right at him. 

His face twisted, he wouldn't have known what emotion it was even if he was staring in a mirror. 

Breakfast was a quick distraction, but Carl's eyes snapped to the stairs as the two boys stomped down the steps. Mickey didn't pay a second glance but Ian did. He raised his eyebrows at Carl, a little grin playing at his lips. 

Carl went to school early.

***

The second was a lot worse. They were at some faggy party that Ian insisted they go to. It's not that Mickey didn't want to go have fun, it just didn't sound fun when Ian said a 'frequent flyer' that invited them. 

That made it all the more better when Ian sat down at the low dining table across from Mickey. He thought he saw a glimmer in those dumb eyes, but didn't pay a second thought; even if it simmered in his stomach. They were in public. Ian wouldn't go for that. Right?

They chatted for a minute, Mickey talking about who he met and how he introduced himself as a pimp. Ian talked about what wine he had tasted and whoever striked his interests. After tasteless small talk, Ian cleared his throat. Mickey turned to eye him, he looked expectant. 

A wordless conversation passed, Ians face held that smug fucking grin while Mickey battled between pained, embarrassed, and turned on. Mickey looked into those- he never decided what color to call them, green? blue? damn turquoise?- shitty eyes of his.

His nose crunched and he silently asked once again if Ian was fucking serious before ducking under the table. At least the gay ass carpet in the dining room kept his knees from scratching. 

Mickey had to hide all fucking night because some fucking fairies decided it was time to eat or some shit. But that didn't mean he couldn't make Ian choke on his food.

***


	2. tidbits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus, there they are, sitting in the snow, blood dripping from unknown places, and Ian is trying to make him blush like a goddamn twelve year old girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so im kind of really happy I pushed myself? ive never broken 1000 words on a story before. 
> 
> but this might be last chap for this one. obv lmk if you want more of this story.
> 
> but don't fret! i have more lil bbs in the oven.
> 
> ps anyone wanna beta for me? haha

  The third time, Ian barely had to look at him. Well, that may have been because Mickey liked being the little spoon and Ian couldn't help his morning wood. So it was an obvious request and easily fulfilled. Mickey was taking this arrangement like a fucking champ so far.

 

  After, Mickey crawled up Ians chest, laying there; studying his dopey features. A crooked smile spread on Ian's face, "Do you love me, Mick?"

 

  Mickey scrunched his nose, almost disgusted, "What kind of stupid fucking question is that?" Ian's chest shook him with laughter. He wrapped himself around his little angry ball of fury and sighed, content.

 

  Said fury took a second, unknowing what the fuck he was talking about, before relaxing into the touch. Ian was already asleep, by the looks of it. He risked a tender hand on those shitty fucking freckles, emotions jumping from agitated to a calm worried.

 

  "' _Do you love me'_ fucking asshole." Mickey kissed his gingers forehead before following back into sleep.

 

***

 

The fourth time. Let me tell  _you_ about the fourth time that mother fucker looked at Mickey with that slutty, shit-eating grin. Ian has the audacity to try and pull this after he came out.

 

  Probably more when they got the shit beaten out of them, but it was tooth for tooth, rib for rib.

 

  Jesus, there they are, sitting in the snow, blood dripping from unknown places, and Ian is trying to make him blush like a goddamn twelve year old girl. Not that either of them could tell with the dried blood caking their cheeks.

 

  "You do have really nice legs."

 

  There's that look, but the smile is different. Like, he's proud or some shit.

 

  Mickey pauses, "You're a fucking dick." He didn't giggle goddamnit, but that was the girliest fucking laugh ever to bubble out of his beer-drinking gut. And it was contagious.

 

***

 

  "When is it my turn?" Mickey looked at his ginger, raising an eyebrow, only to receive a scoff in return.

 

  "Please, Mick. You know I'm a vegetarian." Ian's eyes rolled. Mickey snatched up his wrists and pinned them down, "I'm a vag-etarian, there ain't much difference there." Ian gave no resistance against the hold.

 

  That fucking asshole. Was completely compliant. And his shit eating lips were twisting and Mickey was going to /melt/-he didn't know what else to do.

 

  He kissed Ian with all he had. That kept Firecrotch's mouth busy but not his, yanno, firecrotch. He refused to go down in a goddamn puddle, he was a Milkovich for fucks sakes. Just cause he ain't a bitch doesn't mean he has to act like one.

 

  Mickey didn't have to wait long before that delicious heat refused to leave him. And it wasn't until Mickey was flinching away from over sensitivity that Ian finally ' _popped_ ' ( Mickey let out a low groan at the sound ) off.

 

  "That recovery was a little delayed, but two orgasms isn't bad after five days." Ian's lips played with a grin and his fingers danced on Mickey's hips. The muscles just about shivered under his touch.

Mickey almost got mad. If he wasn't so, _drained_. He let out a sigh instead, "Of course you were doing it on purpose. Fuck, Gallagher. You're a fucking dick, man." Twitch.

"More like, 'you are fucking _a_ dick' am I right?" That grin split his face in two. Fucking douchebag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get it? so ian wasn't being a dick to mickey, just wanted to stave of his, well, dick for a while. or maybe ian is just a princess.
> 
> the world may never know


End file.
